Those were the days....
Many years ago, going on a narrow-boat holiday on the River Avon, I slept on the roof of the boat. It was probably common consent - six young men existing on a diet of junk food and beer does not lead to a pleasant night-time aroma, and I snore dreadfully too.

Anyway, one morning I wake up in the brightness of a new day to discover that (a) my blanket has ridden down in the night, and (b) my little soldier is proudly standing to attention as I lie on my back and has escaped the confines of my pants.

These days I can only weep at the lost diamond-cutter hardness and long-lasting turgidity that I could achieve then, but at the time I was mortified.

So, apologies to anyone in Stratford who had their early-morning stroll by the river marred back in July, 1987. I hope you've got over it now.
(uncle whippity, Wed 3 Jun 2009, 18:00, Reply)